Every moment I spend with her, the less I understand my own mother’s bailing on me and Jeremy. Even when my baby grows up and she’s all mouth and sass and her daddy’s piercing blue eyes, I’m going to love her. And I’m not alone.
“Wanna go see Daddy?” I ask her. She kicks her chubby little legs out, makes a gurgling sound that I swear is an excited affirmative, and smiles up at me with the cutest, toothless grin on the planet.
“Da,” s'he says. I know she’s saying Daddy in her own little way, but I like to pretend she’s saying “duh,” because that’s just funnier.
“I love you so much I think I’m gonna make myself sick,” I say as I scoop her up and walk her out of the room and into the living room and try unsuccessfully to ignore the dull ache from my right hip. The new tattoo on my hip is a gift for Duke. After he got the tattoo on his lower left arm, I knew I had to get something for him, too. On the inside of his wrist is a tattoo of my signature, and on the other side is the word forgiven. Once I told him that everything that’s in the past is done and gone, he wanted to commemorate it in a very permanent way.
Robin wiggles in my arms and reaches out to pull at my hair. I remember back in the day when her pulling my hair would hurt, but she does it so often now that I barely notice it. Even in her sleep she pulls at my hair or at Duke’s beard. It’s our fault, I suppose. Neither of us is very good at making her sleep in her crib in her own room. Duke tries to make up crap, saying that she screams like a banshee when he leaves her in there—which is true—he just also refuses to acknowledge the fact that if he left her in there long enough, she’d eventually quiet down and get used to it. But he doesn’t like to hear her scream anymore than I do.
I load her up into her car seat inside my Corolla and then climb into the driver’s seat. She runs almost like a dream now that Duke’s fixed her up for me. Pulling away from the house, I admire the fresh coat of yellow paint that’s on the exterior and the way the lawn is cut and the edges are trimmed. The outside of the house looks a lot better now, and the people on the inside are a lot better now, too. Only, I try not to tell Duke that. He likes to rub it in my face.
Robin’s been to the clubhouse a few times before, but it’s usually smoky inside and no place for a baby. But today it’s mostly clean, family fun. Barbara’s bringing Stephen and Izzy by for a rare appearance. The only member she really keeps in touch with these days is Grady, and that’s by virtue of Elle. We’re still her family, but she needs space. I can respect that. Mary and Fish are bringing their kid by, and Grady’s supposed to have his daughter, Cheyenne, over as well. Duke said he was going to see about getting Grady to chill long enough for Ryan to bring Alex by, even though she’s on the fence about showing up. I know she won’t let me down, because I don’t let her down. And even if the club never accepts her, she’s my family just as much as the club is my family. Today’s kind of a big day for my family.
Today’s the day they voted me in.
It’s a big deal to be voted in. It means I’m officially Duke’s Old Lady. It means the club considers me one of their own. I don’t sit in on Church, I don’t know—officially—club business, and I don’t vote in on their business dealings. But I’m one of them in a way that matters just the same. My mother was never voted in because the club never got a good feel for her, which is not surprising. When she left my dad, that was it. She was gone. I’ve heard rumors that she called the club for help a few years after she left. But she wasn’t voted in, so she wasn’t family. Even though my dad couldn’t be here, he’s sent us his best. Duke makes sure Jeremy and I see him regularly now, and every time I visit, I end up spending half the time telling Dad about how Robin’s growing. He says word around the yard at San Quentin is that The Butcher is whipped by a seventeen-pound baby, and he can’t wait to meet her when he gets out. We still don’t have any realistic idea of when that’ll be though, because he incurred another infraction for going off on a guy over something or other.
When I pull through the gates, the first thing I see is Jeremy. He’s standing by my usual parking space with his prospect cut on, and he gives me a chin lift as way of greeting. I used to hate seeing him in that cut, but Dad’s calmed me down about it. If the club’s good enough for Duke, then it’s good enough for Jeremy. Still, the longer he spends with the club, the bigger an asshole he becomes. And he was already half past being a prick back then.